


The Saint and The Silver-Tongued Devil

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a saint and she was a silver-tongued devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Saint and The Silver-Tongued Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts 'saints' and 'silver-tongued devil' at [Writerverse](http://writerverse.livejournal.com)

He was a saint and she was a silver-tongued devil. At least, he used to be a saint. He was a little less saintly since she’d first met him. Back then things had been easy, simple, defined. She was Lucifer’s soldier and he was Heaven’s. He was there to stop them from ending the world. And she was there to stop him from stopping them. But even then, as she stood on one side of the holy fire with him on the other, the lines had begun to blur. She had been sure that intensity had been honest lust and not just a bluff. That’s when she’d felt the burn the first time, just before he threw her into the flames. 

The second time, the lines were still there in her eyes, just about. She didn’t know that he’d crossed one of them and in a big way too. She was working with the Winchesters, true, but that didn’t make her good, she just wanted to ice Crowley, the bastard, and they would help her do that. She didn’t know he was no longer a saint, more of a sinner, working with the top of Hell’s food chain, the very same bastard she was out to get. But even so, she felt the burn again, pressed into a wall and into his body, his mouth giving her back what she’d given him, finally living up to the teases they’d batted back and forward since the very first words they exchanged.

Then he became the saint for real, dying and coming back to life, performing miracles along the way. She hadn’t meant to look for him, she’d meant to keep clear, let Crowley have him. But she found herself wanting that burn again, the fire that came with being in his presence, however unwillingly. But he’d changed; he wasn’t a saint or even an Angel anymore, not in his own eyes, she had to tell him what he really was. He was broken and naive and barely more than a child by the time he’d finished sacrificing himself. She couldn’t seek what she wanted so she gave him what he needed, someone to look after him.

The Winchesters wouldn’t let that be though, they needed him too, enough to put up with her and trust her to help them. They fucked it seven ways to Sunday, she was captured and had to rely on Crowley’s word for the rest. Dean had pulled the go straight to Purgatory card and taken Castiel with him.

But Crowley never told her that he returned, she just had to buy her time and hopelessly wait, just on the off chance he was still alive. And he did come back for her, after a fashion, and when he did, he was fixed, burning again. Her skin was practically aflame and it was all she could do to keep her cool, hinting and questioning until she just outright propositioned him, only to be interrupted before she got her wish.

But she did feel that burn again, unwillingly and not at the hands she wanted but it was there, under the pain and the fury, as her own Angel blade was turned on her. It slid into her vessel, burning through in a burning light that shone through her skin. She wondered, as the burn faded, leaving her in the cold and dark of Purgatory... 

Was she the silver-tongued devil still or had she inadvertently become the saint somewhere along the way?


End file.
